A Lady's Ride Across Spanish Honduras

We travelled a few miles in silence, for the men were evidently languid from the want of sleep, and I was too much engrossed by the beauty of the scenery, and in admiration of the glorious country through which we were passing, to need conversation. Luisa, the mule, carried me well, and her even pace left me at liberty to enjoy the sweet air of these magnificent Hondureian mountains, so little known to the outside world, and so little appreciated by those who dwell around them.

Here, rock, wood, tree, shrub, and water are on a grand scale-all, so to speak, the best of their kind; and the humble wild flowers, adorning the far-stretching fertile valleys which slope between the clefts, are rich in colour, and far from wanting in perfume. The varying lights-the glimmering opal and the deep purple haze alternating with the fairest blue of the heaven and the blackest depth of the cloud-as we passed on our way, presented a scene, the like of which I had never seen before, and never expect to see again.